Molly are you okay?
by LoveIsAFairyTale
Summary: Molly Hooper is struggling with depression and thinks only a razor could be the answer to her prayers.. could it be true? Certainly not, Sherlock Holmes will be on the case. WARNING: This involves cutting, suicidal thoughts, and etc. and maybe a bit of smut later..
1. Chapter 1

As the razor dropped from her hand, she could feel the blood trickling down her arm. Tears started to stream down Molly Hooper's face, she promised herself she would break this habit. It takes twenty-one days to break a habit, and she was on day fourteen. Now, she had to start from scratch.

Molly got a washcloth and began to wash her face, then quickly scrubbed the blood away, realizing she was late for work. Sherlock was most likely there since he was working on a case at the moment and had been there every time she entered and every time she left. She threw her hair in a pony-tail and changed into her blouse and work pants. Molly dashed around the room, trying to find her shoes she discarded when she walked in yesterday. Looking at Toby, she noticed he was on top of them. That managed to crack a smile out of her.

"Oh, Toby! Those shoes are mine, not yours!" She said in a tisking voice, moving closer to him.

He meowed in reply and went right back to sleep on her shoes.

Molly rolled her eyes and picked him up. He started to purr as she petted his head, but jumped out of her arms once he started to get bored.

"I love you, Toby! And I will be back later, don't miss me!" Molly commented, and he continued to ignore her.

She shut the door, locked it, then placed her key in her purse as she started to walk out. As she was walking to work, she didn't want to ride today, she couldn't help but think. She thought how she did have a good life. Molly had loving parents, a few loving friends, and a loving pet. So, why did she hurt herself? Well, she always put herself down. She thought people secretly hated her, or she wasn't pretty enough. That she just wasn't good enough to live. Sherlock didn't help with his random, hurtful remarks throughout his visitations in the lab.

Soon enough, she reached St. Bart's and entered, plastering a smile on her face, just like she did every morning. Molly greeted every co-worker as they passed, and to anyone she would look immensely happy. It was an act she had perfected to a tee. Everyone believed Molly Hooper didn't have an unhappy bone in her body, and that was exactly what she wanted them to believe.

Arriving into the lab, she put on her lab coat, making sure her wrists were covered. She also had marks on her upper thighs and waist from last night, but he obviously couldn't have ever seen those. She looked around for him and noticed he was trying to find something in her shelves. He was obnoxiously throwing everything out and she just didn't have the breath to argue. She started picking up everything he threw out already, and he still hadn't noticed her presence.

"Where is that eyeball I stored a month ago-" Sherlock muttered to himself, searching frustratedly, "it had been here yesterday!" He then shouted, as he removed the last bit of what was left in the shelf.

"You left it on the counter, Sherlock. I stored it in my desk because I didn't know where you would want me to put it." She stated, clearly bored, already making her way to her desk and opening the drawer.

"Molly, when did you get here-" Sherlock started but was interrupted when a jar with the eyeball was pushed into his arms.

"Not soon enough it seems." Molly said stacking up everything back to where it belonged. Sherlock noticed as she was reaching up a red mark on her arm that seemed to have a bit of dried blood.

"Molly, what happened to your arm?" Sherlock asked, inching closer for a better look.


	2. Chapter 2

Molly's eyes had widened and she quickly pulled her sleeve back down.

"Nothing, Toby was just angry so he scratched me. It's no big deal, it happens all the time."

"Really?" Sherlock said, only a step away from her, "Toby has never been violent towards you before. Why would he start now? Hmm?"

He started to pull up her sleeve, but was interrupted when Lestrade rushed in, "Twelve victims, same death, all within the same day. Except they were in all different cities and they have never known each other. Take the case?" He asked, holding on to a counter, trying to catch his breath.

Forgetting Molly completely, a grin appeared and he fetched his coat and scarf, "An eight I would say."

Lestrade started to leave the room and Sherlock followed immediately. Once the lab doors were shut, she let out a relieved sigh.

"That was close." She whispered to herself.

She rolled up her sleeves and examined her marks. They were an angry red and she did notice some blood had still been there. She quickly went to the loo and washed away the remaining evidence of what she did that morning. The marks were still alarmingly noticeable, so she had to make sure she didn't roll up her sleeves at all today.

The day continued without any surprise, a few autopsies happened, some died of natural causes, some cancer, but it was the usual for her. It was late when she left St. Bart's, and she thought of hailing a taxi, but she didn't see any around. Molly didn't have the patience to wait tonight. So, she tried to get home as fast her legs could carry her. No one was really on the streets, except for a man she noticed behind her at all times. He was so far behind her, that she wasn't really sure if he was actually following her or not. Finally, she reached her flat, and scurried in and locked the door right behind her.

When she thought she was finally safe, a sharp knock was at the door. Molly, cautiously, looked in her little peep-hole and saw curly, black hair and icy, blue eyes, "Let me in, Molly." Sherlock said, in a flat tone.

She hesitantly opened the door, obviously having no choice in the matter. He stepped in and slammed the door, making Molly jump. "So, why the marks, Molly?" He asked, starting to try to roll up her sleeves.

"Aren't you on a case?" Molly asked, swiftly moving her arm away and trying to walk to her bedroom.

"Solved it," Sherlock said as he walked right behind her and followed her straight into her room. "Now, let me see your arm, Molly." Sherlock said, waiting impatiently.

She crossed her arms, and sat on her bed. "It's seriously just marks from Toby. Why are you so worried?"

Sherlock kneeled in front of her, saying seriously, and almost lovingly, "Because you count."

Hello everyone! I hope you are enjoying this story! If so, or if you aren't, please give me some feedback!

This chapter is dedicated to ceces-pizzeria ! :D


	3. Chapter 3

Molly's shut her eyes tightly, and tried not to shed a single tear. It took her a moment to realize Sherlock was now on the bed with an arm wrapped securely around her. Sherlock has never touched her before. So, why now? Did he think of her as pathetic and need sympathy? Fire enraged in her and she shot up and stood right in front of him. He remained sitting there, bringing his arm back to his side, with a very confused expression on his face.

"Don't people who care comfort each other?" Sherlock asked, innocently.

"Well," Molly started, "yes. But when did you start to care for me? And I don't want your sympathy, Sherlock."

Sherlock was angry and pulled her back on the bed, and made her stare into his eyes, not letting her look anywhere else.

"Let me tell you something, Molly Hooper. I'm not going to lose you, especially if I can help it."

She had never seen him so passionate about anything..and it looked like he actually meant it. He didn't realize it was an addiction she had since she was younger.

Around the mere age of thirteen, Molly had been teased for being so shy, not pretty, and having no friends. No one wanted to be her friend because she was "weird". Molly didn't like to socialize much, so she would read for hours and hours. She certainly didn't think anything was wrong with that. Then her mother intervened and tried to persuade her to go out with friends, since she started to get worried about her. So, Molly would say she went out with friends to movies when she would go to the bookstore. Books were her only friends. She got nervous when speaking to people and would stutter her words.

The teasing then hadn't bothered her yet. Two years later, she hadn't changed at all. Nothing was very feminine about her. A couple of popular girls passed her in the hallway and shoved her, saying, "Why don't you do us all a favor and just kill yourself?"

All of them laughed. Her little clique and a few others who were listening in. Molly didn't cry, she was strong..until she got home. As soon as the last bell rang, Molly was out the doors and running as fast as she could. Once she reached her home, she ran inside her bathroom and locked the door. She picked up the razor she shaved with and wondered if it would hurt, or help the pain.

She slowly slid the razor across her wrists, only a few droplets appeared of blood. The blood didn't bother her at all, she was actually fascinated. It didn't hurt.. it felt nice. She continued to go deeper, and a bit deeper. Before she knew it, she was bleeding quite a bit. She cleaned her arm and then examined her arm. It had about ten marks, some bigger then others. Molly smiled as she put down the razor and went to her room and started to begin her new book.

"Molly?" Sherlock said cupping her face in his hands, "Please let me help you."

Molly bit her lip, then started speaking softly, "Sherlock, i'm okay. You don't need to worry about me."

He interrupted her and nodded, "I do. So, pack your bags."

Sherlock released his hands from his face and started to get out her suitcase and throwing random assortments of clothes in it.

"Why do I need to pack my bags?" Molly asked, trying to put everything back.

He stopped her and gave her his best smile, "You will be living at 221B."

Hey everyone! I really hope you are still liking this story, I will try and update as fast as I can!

Please give me feedback and tell me what you think!

-LoveIsAFairyTale


	4. Chapter 4

Sherlock didn't let her say a word, because he knew it would just be a rejection to her living with the two men. He didn't understand why she wouldn't want to though, wasn't she in love with him? Isn't she happy he is finally showing a bit of positive emotion towards her?

"Women," he mumbled under his breath as he look her suitcase out the door.

"What?" Molly said, trailing along behind him. Sherlock was already hailing a taxi by the time she finally caught up with him. She only had one suitcase, because he said she can just come here everyday to get more clothes.

"Sherlock?" Molly asked, shyly.

He turned his head, acknowledging her and not saying a word, so she continued.

"Thank you." She said, looking down, feeling a sudden blush come to her face. It was nighttime, so obviously he couldn't see it, but he probably knew anyway.

"You're… welcome." Sherlock replied as a taxi finally stopped for them. He opened the door for Molly and she slid in and he did after he put her suitcase in the trunk. Sherlock instructed the taxi driver, then Molly and Sherlock in the back remained quiet. He was in deep thought and she was just staying quiet, not wanting to ruin his thought process.

She must have drifted off for a moment, because Sherlock slightly shook her and she jumped, screaming. He grinned and held his hands up, "I was just waking you since we're here. I would've carried you, but John might get some idea's."

Molly immediately looked away from Sherlock and just nodded, rushing out of the car, and going to the trunk to get her suitcase. Sherlock joined her and took the suitcase away from her. She walked beside him up the stairs and into the flat.

"John, I'm home!" He called out, neatly putting Molly's suitcase in the living room.

"Oh, good! Did you know, we don't have milk, Sherlock?" He was in the kitchen, and started to ramble on, "YOU HAVE ON DUTY, SHERLOCK. IT'S TO BUY THE DAMN MILK-" He walked out and saw Molly, giggling and Sherlock looked annoyed.

"Molly," He awkwardly shifted from side to side, "what are you doing here?" His eyes drifted to the luggage and he raised an eyebrow to Sherlock.

"She's staying here, obviously, John. You think with you have being around me so much I would've rubbed off on you by now."

John asked, "Well, why are you, Molly?"

Molly looked down, and didn't say a word. She didn't want to tell John. He probably would be really worried and keep an eye on her 24/7.

Sherlock scoffed and said, "Mind your own business, John. Molly can stay here when she wants and for whatever the reason."

Molly's mouth was agape, shocked that Sherlock didn't tell him.

He lowered his lips down to her ear, "I'm going to take care of you, and only me."

She shivered, suddenly getting goosebumps from how close his lips were to her.

* * *

Hello! I know, this chapter isn't really great.. sorry. I just wanted to update as soon as possible! Please leave reviews and give me suggestions on what you would want to see!

-LoveIsAFairyTale


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